


The Ink Has It

by tinknevertalks



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Banter, Domme!Helen Magnus, F/M, Fic Exchange, Ok so it's more an undercurrent of an established D/s relationship, Post Series, established D/s relationship, will become adventure fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 14:16:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17122934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinknevertalks/pseuds/tinknevertalks
Summary: Nikola's heard tell of an octopus with a special ink; he just needs Helen's company on his adventure.





	The Ink Has It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rinari7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinari7/gifts).



> So, I was matched with my darling Rinari7 to write her a flash fic, and in a sort of unwitting homage my brain decided it needed to write a multi chaptered fic. *Sigh* So this is the first chapter. I don't know when the next one will be written/posted, but I know what I want to do with it so there is that. XD
> 
> Rinari asked for: _Banter over an Abnormal, Domme!Helen, Shenanigans in Praxis and/or historical ruins or your choice, basically anything with their usual kind of push-pull dynamic in the show_. I hope this pleases (and isn't too horrifically domestic).
> 
> And look, you get my 100th _Sanctuary_ fic! ♥ Nadolig llawen darling!

In a relatively unscathed area of Praxis, far away from the main chambers, the sentry guards, and the technology that made grown scientists drool, stood an unassuming dwelling. Dark brown brick with cream accents it looked more akin to something one would find above ground than below, but there it stood in the artificial light, with it’s perfect windows and perfect door, a neat little slice of domesticity. But like most domestic things, it was a fabrication, a meticulously crafted facade made to fool outsiders into dismissing it’s worth, to ignore the door and what lay behind.

Inside the perfect house, away from prying eyes and the constant demands of office, stood a woman in black. In one hand she held a Praxian stunner, pointed directly at her guest as he smirked in her living room. In the other was a book, her finger acting as a pro tem bookmark as she hoped to be left alone again soon. “Nikola.”

“Helen.” His hands were up in a close approximation of surrender, but he didn't seem too fussed by his predicament.

“I don’t recall giving you an invitation.”

“If I waited for an invitation everytime you disappear, I'd be an old man.”

She rolled her eyes, her stunner lowering a fraction. “I don't disappear.”

“No, you don't,” he conceded, “you just don't tell anyone where you're going. Poor William has been tearing his hair out.” Shaking his head, tsking quietly, he dropped his hands and turned away to look at her bookshelves. “Really, he has no idea when you're not there to guide him.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” she intoned softly, putting down her book. “Why are you here?”

“Do I need a reason to see my oldest, dearest --” The stunner powered up “-- It's really boring there without you.”

Narrowing her eyes, she replied, “That was surprisingly forthcoming… And now the real reason?”

Nikola held his hand to his heart, aghast at the unspoken accusation she'd flung at his feet. It did nothing to her demeanour, or the stunner still held aloft. “There's a squid in a cave half a day's walk from here, with a remarkable ink that I want to capture and study but…” He trailed off, his blue eyes full of hope as he watched her.

“But with me absent, Will doesn't want you hareing off on a madcap scheme.”

He nodded. “Like I said, it's very boring over there at the moment.” Looking around the room again, he asked, “Why are _you_ here?”

“Solitude.” Succinct, to the point.

“Because the Sanctuary is overflowing with abnormals.”

Shaking her head, she sat back down in her armchair, the stunner laid delicately on her lap. “Sarcasm becomes you.” Grabbing her book, finding her page, she steadfastly ignored him whilst he walked in circles in front of her books, looking more like a caged puppy than the scion of an all powerful race. Idly flicking a page, the word, “Heel,” meandered into the air from her mouth, dancing between them as he stopped moving to study her.

“You came here to get away from commanding peons, but you can't stop yourself,” he murmured, crossing the room and falling to his knees by her feet.

“Are you pigeonholing yourself, Nikola?” she asked, nominally reading her book.

“Hoping to stay in your good graces so we can find the squid,” was his explanation. “The ink causes hallucinations.”

“Indeed.” She'd barely moved, back to reading her book. “What kind?”

A deep breath. “I don’t know. It's why I want to find one and get a sample.”

Part indolent, part indulgent, she smiled, carding her fingers through his spiky locks. “Shall we have an adventure?”

“I'm happy to stay here,” he finally admitted, “at least, for a few hours.” Nodding, Helen looked back at her book, still smiling to herself. “Shall I make your tea?”


End file.
